


Dean's Best Birthday

by retsehcniwnaed



Category: Supernatural
Genre: M/M, Wincest - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-24
Updated: 2014-01-24
Packaged: 2018-01-09 21:36:35
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,429
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1151072
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/retsehcniwnaed/pseuds/retsehcniwnaed
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean's had 34 past birthdays. Some happy, some sad, some he can't even differentiate from any other day in his past.</p><p>But this one...this one takes the cake.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Dean's Best Birthday

Every year, every single year, his mom made him a cake.

It never failed. Every single January 24th from the time Dean was born, Mary made him a cake.

The first and second he doesn't remember, but there are pictures. His first cake was a blue-and-white iced smash cake, and it looked like he got more on him than in him. John and Mary were posed on either side of his high chair, grinning like fools in love.

His second cake was blue with a big toy fire engine on it. John picked it out, and Mary got Dean a plastic firefighter's helmet to wear. From that day on, he wanted to be a fireman.

His third birthday he can remember a little better. He remembers the cake being gigantic, and it was Star Wars. He still wore his firefighter's helmet, though, even while he brandished a miniature light saber.

His next birthday he remembers very clearly. His mother had just told him he was going to be a big brother, and he kept trying to feed her stomach bites of ice cream cake. Her white maternity shirt was a globby mess of dessert, but her face was never an image of distress.

His fifth birthday...his fifth birthday was nothing to remember. As far as John was concerned, Dean's fifth birthday never happened. Or his sixth. Or his seventh. Dean got used to it, but he never once let Sam's birthday go unnoticed.

Every year, there was cake.

Whether he shoplifted a pack of Little Debbie's snacks and a pack of birthday candles, or he made them from scratch as he got older, Sammy got a birthday cake every single year.

When Dean turned sixteen, he had come home from school to find a dadless motel room decorated with streamers and blown-up water balloons.

"You're supposed to be sick." Dean said, a chastising frown on his face.

"Yeah, well...Ralph from school taught me how to pretend to have a fever. So i stayed home so I could do this for you!" He was grinning widely, and he ran to the mini-fridge to pull out a smash cake that looked like someone had already gotten a hold of it; icing ruined, cake warped; which told Dean that Sam had stolen it from somewhere.

Dean sat down on the bed and wept.

Sam didn't go quite that extravagant, but he had something for Dean every year. Dean found himself looking forward to his birthdays again.

That was until the year Sam pulled a manilla envelope out of his jacket and said, "I'm going, and there's nothing you can do to stop me."

Four more years of ignored birthdays. Not that he noticed the lack of celebration when he missed his brother so deeply.

When he and Sam finally patched things up after Jess died and dad was missing, when January 24th came around, Sam would get stony-faced and lethargic. Dean found out it had been her birthday too, and suddenly the entire day was ruined for him forever.

It seemed like they were either fighting, or too busy when their birthdays came around after that. Dean always made sure to tell Sam happy birthday, just like Sam always made sure to wake Dean up at midnight to tell him...nerd. And they fell into that pattern comfortably.

It was his 29th birthday, though that was burned into his memory forever. Sam hadn't woken him up at midnight like he usually did. He couldn't blame him, they'd had a rough day that had ended up in an argument, which left them both baffled when they asked for a double room and the receptionist smacked her gum amd said, "We only got a single king bed for tonight. 'Less you wanna stay up all night with me, handsome." She said to Sam. Dean grabbed him roughly by the elbow, grabbed the key, amd hauled him to the room.

Which resulted in another argument.

That night, at about three in the morning, Dean woke up to a painfully hard obstruction against his thigh. Thinking nothing of.it, he reached down to grab it and.push it away, but when he did, Sam moaned in his ear.

Dean began to panic. "Sammy?"

Sam rutted himself against Dean and moaned his name, burying his face into Dean's neck. He was squeezing his brother tight, practically pinning him to the mattress and Dean's head was spinning and his cock was filling rapidly.

"Sam! Wake up!" Dean said a little louder, and Sam didn't. So, he turned, snaked his hand.under his brother's pants, and started jacking.his little brother's cock.

Sam's eyes snapped open. "Fuck, Dean. I'm so sorry, shit. I'll sleep.in the floo--fuck I'm--Dean, what're you do- " Dean growled and pushed Sam onto his back with a bruising kiss. He stroked Sam's cock until he came, shivering and gasping, Dean's name leaving his lips as he covered his stomach and Dean's hand. Dean came after two strokes of his come-covered hand, landing in the pool of come on Sam's body, "Ah, Sam...my," Tripping over his tongue as he cried out.

They did things like that a lot after that. They never talked about it. They didn't need to. But they stopped getting double rooms after that. 

His 35th birthday rolled around, and he didn't even wait for his coffee before he opened up a bottle of Jack. Thirty-five. Age had never meant anything to him before, bit thirty-five felt like such a milestone. All day his crow's feet were deeper than he remembered. His eyes were duller, his back achier.

He was exhausted from Sam waking him up at midnight and then begging Dean to fuck him, shoving Dean's hand between his ass cheeks where Dean felt his brother's hole leaking with lube. Who the fuck could say no to that?

It was mor reunion sex than anythibg. Sam had only been back at the bunker for a few days, and Dean was too happy to have him back to even think about sex, but as soon as Sam initiated it with those damn hands that knew exactly where Dean wanted to be touched like they could read his mind, it wasn't hard to crave Sam again.

They made love for the first tine in years. Dean whispering apologies into Sam's neck and hair while Sam moaned his devotion into Dean's mouth in between kisses. Neither of them came until the sun was up, and when they did, it was together.

Sam came around the corner and swiped the bottle from Dean's hand. He tutted, "At your age this could be extremely detrimental to your health. You need to start thinking about that, grandpa."

Dean growled and yanked the bottle back. "Technically I'm not 35 for another couple hours, so let me drink in peace."

"Happy birthday, Dean!" Cas called as he approached him from behind. Dean jumped, "Jesus, Cas, don't sneak up on a guy like that. I know you got your mojo back, but can you reel it in a little? At least before ten?"

Cas nodded, "of course. Sorry, Dean." Sam was stifling his laughter into his cup of coffee. "And thank you, Cas."

"For agreeing to reel in my mojo, or the birthday wishes?"

"The birthday wi...well, both. I guess."

"You're very welcome Dean."

He left, leaving Sam to laugh at Dean's confusion, amd he took advantage of it by taking the bottle from Dean again and pouring it down the sink. "Hey! It's my birthday!"

"Exactly. Don't you wanna remember it?"

"Not really."

Sam rolled his eyes. "Well. Too bad." He handed Dean a cup of coffee while he watches the amber liquid swirl down the sink. Dean heard the fridge open and close, and when Sam returned, he was holding a giant, decorated, bakery-made cake with iced flowers and edible ribbons, and in neat, iced calligraphy, it said "Happy Birthday, Dean."

"Went a bit overboard, you think?" Dean asked, but his voice was full of awe.

Sam grinned, "Glad you like it." He pulled off a rosebud and popped it into Dean's mouth, so Dean returned the favor. Soon, they were swapping icing between their mouths, and it wasn't long after that the cake sat, nearly forgotten on the kitchen table while the boys made up for some lost time against the counter.

"Happy birthday, Dean," Sam whispered, licking a blue streak off the corner of Dean's mouth. Dean wrapped his arm around Sam's waist, nuzzling his throat. "How could it not be?"


End file.
